My dead father communicates with me through dreams, feathers and a few other things in between.
No really, he does.
I know I sound like a desperate grieving daughter, but he really does. In order to believe me you must understand the depth of our relationship. My father was not just my father, he was my best friend. We had a beautiful rapport and the unique gift to discuss anything.
When it became painfully obvious that my father’s days were limited I sat by his side in the hospital, held his hand and whispered, “Will you send me a sign from heaven?” My Dad smiled and replied, “You will always be my baby and I will always protect you.”
The next day he died surrounded by family. My father’s death is a moment that has changed me in ways I never thought possible, it has left a massive void in my life and my heart. Despite the depths of our pain, our family was given a gift, the ability to say goodbye to my father and hold his hand as he entered the gates of heaven. I am forever grateful for that wonderful gift from God.
My father started sending us signs from heaven almost immediately.
The night of his passing my sister saw a shooting star. A few days later, I packed a suitcase to stay at my Mom’s, we returned from shopping to find my suitcase open, pajamas on top of the bag. My mother and I were the only people in the house, and neither of us opened the suitcase.
I have found enough fluffy white feathers to build my own set of angel wings and visit heaven myself. Feathers falling from my ceiling in my home, feathers falling on my head at the gym, feathers in my car. Feathers are always falling at just the right time directly in my path.
Since my father’s passing my dreams are vivid and life like. In my dreams my father is healthy again with a radiant glow to his body. We are usually on a tremendous deck facing a beautiful wooded area. In my most recent dream we were talking and I was hugging him knowing if I let go I would wake up and he would be gone. My Dad smiled, hugged me tighter and whispered in my ear, “You will always be my baby, I will always love you.”
In my most recent dream I heard Bon Jovi’s “Thank you for loving me” playing in the background. My father asked me to play it for my mother. You can imagine that conversation with my mom.
Me: Mom, can you Google Bon Jovi’s “Thank you for loving me”and listen to it?
Mom: Why honey?
Me: Oh….Dad wants you to listen to it. He told me so in my dream last night. Well…I think it was a dream, but I KNOW Dad wants you to listen to it.
My mother was my father’s caregiver for seven years. She was and still is the definition of bravery and courage. My father made sure everyone who entered our home knew she was the reason he was alive. I would observe in awe as my mother cared for my father, she displayed the grace and love of Mother Theresa. However, when you speak to my mother she will look at you with tears in her eyes and ask you if she did enough, she will cry that her love could not save my father. Her caregiver guilt is a heartbreaking, cruel punishment after her selfless acts of caregiving for my father.
So yes, my dead father communicates with me through dreams, feathers and music. He is proving to me time and time again that love never dies and knows no boundaries.
Thank you Dad for loving us, for being our eyes when we couldn’t see.
Wanna hear the song that’s been stuck in my head all day? Click here to view the video on YouTube